All the hospitals I’ve worked at have these big, unflattering OT scrubs that aren’t even comfortable (it’s true). In 2010, I started wearing non-standard scrub caps because I developed contact dermatitis toward the rubber band and the material. However, only when I was in the Master’s Degree program I felt comfortable enough, confident enough, to seriously consider wearing a non-standard scrub set. Also, the standard scrub made me itch, too.
It wasn’t easy.
I had to cajole and beg my Neuro OT sisters to allow me to buy a customized scrub. I had to promise them to go through proper works to eliminate risks of surgical infection. Then I had to convince my big boss (who was actually okay with the idea). Suffice it to say, my sweetness went on overdrive. And then I bought four sets of customized black scrubs from scrubs.com at almost two hundred ringgit per set, so that I’d be wearing a fresh gear every day. Yeah. At least the exchange rate didn’t suck as bad as it does now.
Even then, it wasn’t easy. When I wore my black scrubs in the general or pediatric OT, I had to defend myself to the respective OT sisters. One particular sister even almost forced me to change. When I was stationed at other hospitals, I continued to wear my black scrubs. Somehow it became my identity. Other than “the doctor who laughs a lot” and “the surgeon with (thankfully) great playlists”, I became the “doctor in black scrubs”, even among my superiors.
It’s been two years since I graduated, and I still retain the identities – especially the one with the black scrubs. When I found out that my medical officers intended to make a scrub, and the chosen color was black. I wasn’t happy. My identity was at stake. So I approached the most senior and influential medical officers, as well as my adopted kid brothers. I asked them, “Please. Not black. Anything but black.” Then I went, “If you want to declare war with me, go ahead. Don’t blame me for whatever happens afterward.”
They laughed and teased me, and I thought – I hoped – they considered my request.
But they made their scrubs black, anyway.
I knew they went ahead with the color, but it was when I saw them on two of the medical officers I’m particular fond of earlier tonight that the reality struck me. Especially when one of them is my adopted kiddo. And when I texted my other adopted kiddo, he laughed and said, “all in war with you.”
Maybe I’m overreacting for something so trivial. But here’s the deal: I could have told them, “I am your superior. I am your surgeon. You are beneath my payscale, so you have to listen to me. No black means no.” Or, I could have went, “Pick black and you’ll disrespect me.”
But I didn’t. To me, respect is earned, and not forced upon. And I’ve always believed that I’ve done (mostly) right by these kids. I teach them to the best of my capacity. I’ve always been there whenever they needed me (sometimes even when they didn’t want me around), and I’ve always been supportive. Well, I do overlook some of them, but I am seldom mean. Come on, I’m not a saint. At any rate, I thought I had earned their respect and their affection.
Apparently not.
Worse, when I texted said juniors earlier tonight, none of them apologized. Sometimes saying sorry isn’t about admitting you’ve done wrong, but about comforting the bereaved. They don’t teach this in medical school. Maybe they should, because my juniors do not have a shred of empathy. I was secretly hoping they would choose another color, so that I would know that I did do right by them.
Maybe they’re right. Maybe I should see it as me making an impression, and they wanted black as a nod toward me. But what I am right now is heartbroken on a massive scale. None of them acknowledged my plea, and none of them even bothered to find out why I insisted on keeping the color for myself.
All the times I was there for everyone, they wouldn’t allow me this one grace. I just…I don’t know how to react right now.
I am disappointed. Above everything, I am heartbroken.
I am this much closer to giving up on everything, on everyone.
